


the striking hour

by jenlisa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Anxiety, F/F, F/M, Fate is a bitch, Harry tries, Panic Attacks, Severus Snape Bashing, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Timeline What Timeline, Wandless Magic, but it goes sideways anyway, harry potter cant catch a break, he tries not to mess up the timeline, lunmione are trying to get harry back, young jily
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-31 23:17:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17858906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenlisa/pseuds/jenlisa
Summary: thinking too deeply, rationalising the situation and the possibilities - harry froze slightly. he knew that his life had been a journey of twists and turns and horrifying events, creating chaos nonstop, merlin the fact that he had been sent back in time was enough evidence but he really, really hoped that her reaction had nothing to do with who he was thinking of, that the date of today was anything but what he was thinking of. he would pray against it with every ounce of his being. oh, how ironic it would be -but a part of him -- he doesn’t want to entertain his thoughts right now, he just wants to find out how to go home. he just want to go home.then, with his heart running, he straightens, and whilst looking a bit pale, he asks what’s been floating in his head since he first got here - or well, landed here; “what year is it?”the woman, the owner of the bar and the roof he created a dent in, does the head tilt again, even in her shocked state, and she swallows. he notices her expression change and she looks at him a little softer, a little kinder, a little gentler than she did before.“1979, august 10th.”





	1. the opening

**Author's Note:**

> been thinking about this for a very long time, read fics about it for years and years and became way too invested in the concept of harry potter going back - before he was born - and meeting his young parents, face-to-face. i never did think i would have the skillset to create something like this, but because i'm finding that there are less harry+parents+timetravel fics and more of harry+lover+timetravel fics, i wanted to step up and provide for the 10% that are also in the same slot as i am - screw my grammatical errors and inability to write.
> 
> please look forward to this story as it is the first piece of work (and hp work) that i am ever writing on ao3, i hope you feel that i do the concept its justice, but in my own perspective.
> 
> this is MAINLY harry + parents (with sirius of course), everything else will be minor or will be tuned out for most of it. the first few chapters and some others will have no lily/james, mostly because, well, i think seeing your parents after being told they're dead and dealing with them being gone for 16 years will have the biggest effect on someone and harry needs some time to deal! this is something he's dreamt about and wondered about for years, it's gonna take a lot of time.
> 
> since i hate ron weasley & his weird sister, and all the weasleys - okay thats a bit strong since i like the twins a little bit maybe - i will not be featuring them in this fic. maybe a mention here and there, but otherwise - they're basically nonexistent. so if you're searching for some fics featuring your ginger team, look elsewhere.
> 
> another thing i've gotta mention, i really enjoy regulus black's character - the not talked about much and not so favoured by the potterheads or jk rowling herself ex-deatheater has been so interesting to me the past years, i always had this distinct character study for him. he will be mentioned a lot here, so beware. (i've read fics where harry befriends regulus and others where he saves him, i really enjoyed those. let's continue this movement my friends. i also am not against the pairing, they're quite a good match in my opinion.)
> 
> every chapter title will be named after chapters of the quran - i don't have the slightest idea why i chose to do that, but i'm just providing you with that tiny detail incase you wonder. that also applies to the title of this fic.
> 
> i don't know when i'll be updating, but hopefully sooner rather than later (and by later i mean years and months - i hate when people go and do that, so i'll try not to be a hypocrite and fall into the same pattern.)
> 
> enjoy it.

“here you are,” the woman murmurs, walking towards him with a bucket - he can see the steam coming out of it and squints - before placing it on the table in front of them with a small _thud_. water sloshes to the sides, some flying out in the size of a spit, before she wipes her hands on her clothing and presents to him a clean - well he  _hopes_ it is clean, he would rather not go through having an infected arm - looking cloth from the front pockets of her apron, which now that he can properly see, has specs of dirt, and is advancing towards him with it.

he tries hard not to flinch when she’s close, because this woman had literally saved his life mere moments ago and it should result in some sense of trust, and allows her to take care of him ( _take care of him.. something he hadn’t had anyone do in a long while._ ) although he ignores the icy feeling that he gets.

upon further inspection from his current view, he could see that the cloth had been squeezed to the point where it looked newly bought - not that they did that now in this era, he thought to himself, they probably scissored it off of some material laying around instead of going to the corner store and purchasing fresh ones - although ragged and smelling kindly of fruit with a sugary tinge.

most wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of doing so, and harry was a tiny bit grateful.

the bar they're currently in is cold and shabby, small with dark brown walls and red rugs - there are paintings on the walls of people harry has never seen in his life, although some of them he could remember seeing around hogwarts - and harry likes it. mostly because there isn't anyone here, he thinks. its empty and there is just the two of them. he almost asks her if she owns the place but thinks better of it and decides to stay quiet and look everywhere but _at_ her. 

whilst holding the warm heating cloth onto his arm, tending to his long jagged scar-injury carefully as to not cause him any pain, the woman notices his grimace. she casts her eyes back onto torn skin. “..’m sorry if it hurts, ain’t got any bourbon for it - so this will just have to do.”

when she moves, he replaces her hands position with his and looks pensively at the cloth pressed to him currently. after all thats happened, after all he’s been through, this seems like a small cut on a doe finger to him, which should be _alarming_ but really.. it isn’t quite so.

“now,” she’s suddenly seated across from him, her hands clasped together, the bucket still on the table but seated away so that _he’s_ the only thing in her line of vision, and she settles her eyes on his face as she begins to speak.

“how ‘bout you tell me how a young man like yourself got thrown into a time travelling mumbo-jumbo limbo, ended up on the roof of my bar, without breaking a damn _bone_ , by the way - which.. i’m still trynna understand but we can deal with later, my first question seems to be of most importance at the moment, as i’m sure you’d agree?” she tilts her head, daring him to argue.

he’d expected questions, yes, an interrogation - maybe getting kicked out to the bloody curb - any sane person would if they were in this same situation, to be honest, but of course, she isn’t just anyone, he was starting to think, because she hadn’t done any of that. instead, she had offered him food, water, shelter (he hoped that meant he had a place to stay tonight, for he hadn’t any money - she must have understood of course..), and taken care of his injury. the _least_ he could do is offer her some kind of explanation other than take her hospitality for granted.

but what exactly could he say? what exactly could he reveal? what was the damn year anyway? he didn’t ask earlier, or after she brought him inside and that he really regretted but it made some sense since he bloody fell from the sky and on her roof, injuring himself - _again_ \- as usual.

but really, he can’t explain any of it - because he’s just as lost as this woman is. he couldn’t even think straight because he was still stuck on recounting what he was even doing before this, how he managed to go back in time without trying. he’s still having to comprehend the fact that he made a dent in her roof, and quite a noticeable one too. _he_ made a _dent_ in her roof - and she brought him in and took care of him instead of ordering him to pay for the damages. so if a few bits of information is all that she was asking for, screw the timeline - screw protection.

harry looked down, appearing frustrated. how would he explain it exactly�? it wasn’t as if he had rehearsed this, he didn’t even know how it had happened, how would he make it make sense?

glancing back at the woman, he knew she was losing her patience. he had to form some kind of coherent sentence before she decides to kick him out - especially when the offer of shelter was still on the table, and oh did he desperately need it. he released a sigh. “i’m not actually sure.. one moment i was at hogwarts, then the next, i was falling? it felt.. almost like a dream. i woke up and nothing felt familiar, not anything - everything here looks different, _older_. i think that i may have, somehow, gone back over thirty years or so?”

“you think.. you think you went back in time?” she has a brow raised again and looks like she doesnt believe him - which, isn’t that surprising really, he doesn’t believe himself right now either, he was still trying to make sense of it all. time travel? going back in time? it sounded like an absolute joke when she said it out loud though.

“erm, yeah?” he winces, and its not because of his injury. he just feels embarrassed, because this is the last thing he thought he would be doing today- wait no, in the future, he thinks - or whatever the hell he was trying to say. the woman is probably thinking of _dragging_ him out of the bar now, he hopes not.

he's not wearing his robes - he was wearing his pyjamas, he distinctly remembers - so she could probably call his bluff, but he's young enough to still be in school and he thinks thats why she hasn't opted to use different methods to get him out of her hair. he's still a little struck by her compassion, taking care of him like this. he's struck by any act of compassion, really, to be perfectly honest.

she’s leaning forward, looking at him in a way he doesn’t really like, almost distrustfully. “you never did tell me your last name, what is it?”

harry’s nervous, wringing his hands together underneath the wooden table, knocking his hands onto it and causing the bucket full of water to rock slightly - not enough for anything to come out of it though - then staring back at her with uncertainty.

“it’s potter.. my name is harry potter.” he murmurs.

to hell with protection and not mucking up the timeline, right? might as well go full-on stark naked, sprint up and down bloody hogsmeade shouting voldemort’s name. harry was sure what he did just now would absolutely have consequences, he knew it. he could have quickly made something up couldn’t he? like- like, maybe evans - harry evans, that would have been far better than what he had just exposed to this woman.

he was sure, mostly anyway, that his name wouldn’t do anything - from his surroundings he had come to some kind of conclusion that either this bar wasn’t getting too many customers in the past few years, or either he had been thrown so far back to a time when dumbledore was barely a man.

the way her _entire_ body stilled - now that.. that told him otherwise.

he felt her withdraw back on her seat, the table moving again as she dragged her arms away from the table and onto her sides, staring at him with wide eyes.

thinking too deeply, rationalising the situation and the possibilities - harry froze slightly. he knew that his life had been a journey of twists and turns and horrifying events, creating chaos nonstop, merlin the fact that he had been sent back in time was enough evidence but he really, really hoped that her reaction had nothing to do with who he was thinking of, that the date of today was anything but what he was thinking of. he would pray against it with every ounce of his being. oh, how ironic it would be -

 _but a part of him_ -

\- he doesn’t want to entertain his thoughts right now, he just wants to find out how to go home. he just want to go _home_.

he'd been stalling this whole time, waiting waiting and waiting for the right moment to ask the dreaded question - the one question that would wrap up the conversation and possibly send him reeling from its hard truth, because he had a _feeling_ \- he just had a feeling that it would be true. he pushed it to the back of his mind to let himself breathe, just breathe - but he had to face it now, if he ever wanted to go home.

then, with his heart running, he straightens, and whilst looking a bit pale, he asks what’s been floating in his head since he first got here - or well, landed here; “what year is it?”

the woman, the owner of the bar and the roof he created a dent in, does the head tilt again, even in her shocked state, and she swallows. he notices her expression change and she looks at him a little softer, a little kinder, a little gentler than she did before. “1979, august 10th.””

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> saw somewhere in my notes that i sometimes go turkey and feel the need to add representation whilst writing, so i'll probably provide with: poc, lgbt+, islam etc. related things during this story since i see way less of it in this fandom, i hope it doesn't bother anyone too much.
> 
> i'm very, very, very fond of our luna + hermione pairing, so you bet you're gonna be seeing them making an appearance. there will be times where i mark the story so you'll know when its switched to the CURRENT timeline (where they are the main focus, which you can skip past it if you'd like) and the PAST timeline (where harry currently is.) as i said above, regulus will also be shown. i have not yet thought through whether harry and regulus will be romantically involved, i probably will not go through with it, but you never know - opportunities, opportunities.
> 
> in this fic harry will be 16, i know that sirius dies when hes a bit older but i've decided to mess with that a little.
> 
> little p.s; i don't really know the exact months and days - don't think anyone else knows this either - of when james n lily went into hiding, when the boys were suspicious of remus, when they decided secret keepers, when they announced they were pregnant.. etc, just that in 1979 peter started betraying them to voldemort, you know, the simple stuff - so i'll try and fit it together as i go along i suppose. hopefully it doesn't all go to shit, as things usually do when im in charge.


	2. dominion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “-and you know what? i don’t think that i even deserve to be expelled over something like this, it isn’t entirely my fault as it isn’t my secret- dumbledore is the one with all the knowledge and experience, and i ought to tell him about all of this of course but i can’t because harry trusts me not to, and i can’t even find a way to get him back because i just read bloody books in the library!” she yelled, her hands waving about in the air, cheeks red from frustration. she was absolutely sick of this, she wouldn’t be a sitting duck whilst harry was in danger, kidnapped by time-turnerless people. she wouldn’t have it. but what could she do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> harry having to see the parents- that he mourned for 16 years of his life, and not even willingly? that will break him on a whole new level, and i know real life harry wouldn't run away from a possible encounter with his parents, but i would like to write him in my own version, so that his astrology sign is stronger here and comes into play more - he'll hate that there's a chance he can finally meet them, he'll try and ignore that its there and have this kind of ignorance to it. poor harry though, he'll have to come and face it.
> 
> this is a leo trait that most of us have, running away from our problems and trying to act like it doesn't exist so we don't have to deal with it or deal with the emotions that come with it. so im basically just running with that version of him in this story, the leonian in him, of how he would feel-react-behave in these circumstances.
> 
> please feel free to review what you think of this chapter, most of the time i trail off when im writing and i make everything cluttered, so do comment!

harry steps inside the room slowly, looking at everything all at once whilst rubbing his eyes- they’re heavy and he feels heavy and his arm is bothersome and the _only_ thing he can think about is sleep - it seems. he takes in his surroundings, noticing that the room is small - he isn’t the least bit surprised since the whole building itself is as tiny - and that there’s a lone bed in the middle of the room, lamp and wardrobe on one side, a table carrying a glass of water and an apple in the other, which he suspects is for him. dubiously, he walked towards the end of the bed, fingers twitching at his sides. he didn’t arrive with anything, not even his wand - and he’s feeling the worst type of loss due to that.

 

he knows he should feel better now that he has a place to stay tonight- a place where he can finally rest, he should be downstairs giving the kind woman a hearty thanks, with the most relieved and satisfied smile on his face - the one he usually always wore.

 

but he isn’t feeling particularly up to it, it would be fake and ugly- blimey, he can’t even muster a _grimace_ , and he wouldn’t want to approach her whilst feeling unpleasant, she deserved to be thanked in a much better way. the way he’d responded to her questions earlier.. he was lucky to have met her really, she hadn’t pressed him for answers and he hadn’t given her any that lacked proof, other than the standard ones he thought were okay to give, you know, the fact that he had gone back in time? his clothes were enough for her to believe him, thankfully.

 

he had this feeling that she was very familiar (probably from the book of photos that belonged to his parents which he had looked through, courtesy of hagrid), and the way her expression went white at the reveal of his full name, now _that_ , that had made him go into a spur. he was supposed to be making sure he didn’t bump into anyone that knew his parents, yet here he had gone and done so, unknowingly, whilst mentioning his name.

 

( _as if he was supposed to know every single one of their acquaintances,_ he told himself _._ )

 

she hadn’t said anything though, afterwards, which resorted in him thinking she was probably not a threat.

 

 _probably_.

 

although the reveal of how _far_ he had gone back had disrupted their quiet, wary not-so-much-of-an-interrogation, harry had made sure to collect himself just in time. it would not do to lose himself, especially in the _past_.

 

he turns around to the door, and remembering her warning of its uncooperativeness, he tries to use his full body to shut it completely, only having difficulty when it brought the carpet with it. satisfied, he grips the lock in his hands and twists it, assuring that no one would come inside.

 

it complies with a lingering sound, and thus, the relief that washes over his body is indescribable. he could finally, _finally_ think to himself.

 

think about what to do, think about who did this to him, think about who he will trust, think about what his next course of action will be, think through some kind of plan to understand this situation better, think about how in the world he managed to be thrown in 1979, where his parents are still alive, still breathing, still living.

 

and how he’s going to have to keep his distance.

 

since he’d come here, he hadn’t had any time alone, not once, even when tending to his injury, he had still been asked question after question. he relished in the first moments alone by himself - even if they were to be his last - and _breathed_. the strain and the stress has caused him to stay awake for too long, alertness seeping from every part of him and he thinks, he has never really felt this kind of tension before. it was uncontrollable, he barely managed to stay upright down there.

 

so when it breaks, when it cracks violently, when his legs are too tired- too unwilling to hold him anymore, and his eyes are pouring with unwanted tears, he allows it all. he allows it, allows the vulnerability and the hope and the hurt to crash and settle over him, he allows the mental and the physical exhaustion to take him down, he allows his chest to feel as if it is being compressed. it heaves, heaves and heaves until his hands are flatly pressed on the dusty unclean wooden floor, using the last shred of strength in his body to keep himself from falling completely- even as his arm throbs and the burning sensation sweeps over him. arms, legs, stomach - everything shook with the turb that shot through him, _merciless_ as it gave push after push after push.

 

_(maybe if he tried hard enough, maybe if he did enough- remus would let him stay with him. he looked after him, went through spells with him, fed him and took care of him at his lowest, supported him enough that he didn’t dive into a path of darkness and loneliness- so surely that meant he cared for him?)_

 

his vision was nothing but blurry light - humorous since the room itself was nothing but darkness; darkness and reeking of isolation, and saw nothing but noise. he felt it too, it was loud, but not loud enough to cover his hiccup of a sob. it escaped from past his lips without consent, a terrible ugly sound that he had felt only once before, one that he had wished he would never hear again.

 

and suddenly, the memory of his godfather, the situation he was currently in, the fact that the two breathing souls that created him were not just names on a grave anymore- but _alive_ , the distrust of dumbledore - the _only_ person who could get him out of here and back home, the dursleys, the bloody _cupboard_ , the years he suffered, not having remus to guide him through this- that was all he could _think_ of.

 

it was too hot, too warm, his body was an overheating machine - the sweat crawled from his pits to his arms, from his stomach to his waist, from his forehead to his eyes, until he was drenched with it. it soaked his shirt, mixing itself with the tears he spilled, and he felt too uncomfortable in his own skin.

 

harry opened his mouth wide, clenching his teeth and tried to gain control again, eyes squeezing themselves shut and suffering from the saltiness of the remnants of his tears. it was hard, so hard, but he held it there.

 

_(sirius had always been there for him, gone through hell and back for him, taught him things only a father could, looked at him like he wasn’t useless, saw him as someone he loved and wanted to protect- he was the only one who got him. nights when harry thought that he finally wasn’t alone and that he had someone, someone he considered family, they weren’t just feeble attempts at trying to make himself feel better, they were finally a reality that filled him with hope. he had been the happiest during that time.)_

 

he couldn’t think he couldn’t breathe, his hands were shaking and he hadnt any idea how to stop it - oh merlin he just wanted to go _home_.

 

time stood still for a minute, as he held his breath and waited, waited for this nonsense to pass. it was weak for him, he should have a clear mind and a full-proof-thought-out plan round about now, but instead of doing that he was crying like a stubborn child who didn’t want a bloody bath. and for what? over seeing his parents? over seeing sirius again? over remus? over something he had wished for at nights when picking the skin of the wood of his cupboard, his _room_ , in the pitch black dark?

 

if everyone were to see him now, feet tucked as he held himself whilst on the ground, red in the cheeks as he suppressed another shudder of a cry - all this over the fact that he could meet the two people who saved his life- who are the reason for his existence and sirius, his godfather. the people he believed to be dead, that were now suddenly alive at this time.

 

he felt tugs in his chest again, and feared he would have another moment like that, but was thankful when it was only his stomach yawning deeply, informing him of its hunger.

 

he’d eaten hours ago, had a small meal with his saviour that consisted of bread and butter and not much else. he had noticed the apple was still there right next to him, but decided to leave it for the morning, he was sure he would be out of here by then.

 

_(how uncharacteristically selfish of him, taking and taking and taking then bolting right after.)_

 

harry coughed, the action causing his body to rattle and his teeth to chatter- how the temperature of his body changed so drastically, he would never know, whilst carefully trying to stand on his own two feet. he held the bed to support himself, wobbling as he tried the first time, before righting himself.

 

the sigh he let out was long, hard and hoarse, and as he settles, he makes his way to the bed - _his_ bed now he supposes, laying down on its soft sheets whilst propping his feet onto the ends of the mattress, on the thin silver metal thats curved into a ball. it wasn’t comfortable at all but harry closed his eyes still in that position, hoping that his body would regain its energy for tomorrow.

 

he supposed, he should have expected something like this to happen, and to be honest, he should prepare for things like this _and_ more. everywhere he turns, everytime he thinks he’s got it right - he gets pushed right back down to where he started.

 

 

* * *

 

**  
PRESENT TIMELINE**

 

it seemed as the hours flew by, luna was to expect a new reaction from her girlfriend _(anger, sadness, excitement at finding a new way to uncover this exhausting puzzle of a situation, restlessness.. the list goes on.)_ due to harry potter’s disappearance and her anger at not being able to find out the cause of it, which led to hermione herself going absolutely mad.

 

the moment she stepped into the ravenclaw dormitory, she’d gone off on a tangent- luna herself only being able to make out some words and phrases like “harry”, “thrust into some kind of alternate dimension”, “absolutely _dumbledore’s_ fault, you know harry warned us about him” and so on. it didn’t completely register in her head at first because she was too busy trying to get the girl’s attention, which is rather confusing in itself since she herself was the one to seek luna out, but as the words slowly began to sink it, she had to mull it over quietly, and came to the realisation that no amount of books would be of help.

 

“i have gone through every single one of those tatted, _rusty_ old books, covered every page of my notes with any spell that is remotely linked to disappearances, time warps, time travel and time glitches- stealing scrolls from the headmaster, even, who i’m sure by now has _noticed_ and is already on his way to throw me out-“

 

hermione.. stealing scrolls? how had she even gotten inside his office? luna found herself remembering the map that she always had clutched to her fingers, the one that belonged to harry’s father- had _her_ hermione gone and secretly made her way into his office, undetected? she was almost worried at how proud she was, because this seemed so much like something hermione would be scolding the _boys_ for doing.

 

“-hermione-“ luna gently tried to interrupt, even with a hand nearing the girl’s shoulder, but hermione just spun around again, her robes flying after her, and continued her rambling, completely unaware of her attempt to speak to her. it was like talking to air, really.

 

“-and you know what? i don’t think that i even _deserve_ to be expelled over something like this, it isn’t entirely _my_ fault as it isn’t _my_ secret- dumbledore is the one with all the knowledge and experience, and i ought to tell him about all of this of course but i can’t because harry trusts me not to, and i can’t even find a way to get him back because i just read bloody books in the library!” she yelled, her hands waving about in the air, cheeks red from frustration. she was absolutely sick of this, she wouldn’t be a sitting duck whilst harry was in danger, kidnapped by time-turnerless people. she wouldn’t have it. but what could she _do_?

 

the only thing on her mind currently was the fact that he had disappeared out of nowhere, gone, vanished- he was no more, and no one knew anything about it. at first she suspected it had something to do with voldemort because, _hello_ , he absolutely hated him. but in the end if voldemort had taken him, surely he would have done something or made a public announcement? it was, after all, _voldemort_ they’re talking about. any interaction with harry that ended with him in victory was a chance for him to boast.

 

after she calmed down for a few moments, she noticed that the blonde she’d been scouring to find earlier was staring at her in amusement, eyes sparkling with something so _luna_ -like that she couldn’t explain, and suddenly her bearings came to. had she- did she really come into the ravenclaw sanctuary, _without_ an invite, and ignored her girlfriend as she went on about something she didn’t even _bother_ to explain to her? the absolute disrespect she had just shown to her made her feel absolutely shameful.

 

although, she knew that luna wouldn’t be angry at her for this, she seemed to be okay with everything hermione did for some reason, always approaching her incoherent rambles with ease, she was very thankful for her, especially when she kept a level-head when dealing with one of her episodes.

 

the first person to have appeared in her thoughts after the realisation that harry was gone, was obviously luna. she had somehow gone from her friend, her confidant, her girlfriend, her safe place, to her parter-in-crime. it was startling how fast they were moving in their relationship, but hermione had a feeling it was mostly because of her _erratic_ self. she felt luna was much more equipped to handle her than anyone else, her calm and collectiveness was soothing and a great change from hermione’s fizzy and quick personality. they blended well together, she thought to herself.

 

“i uh, probably ought to knock next time,” she said sheepishly, scratching her neck whilst holding onto her wand. she wasn’t exactly sure why she had her wand with her- maybe incase dumbledore came marching into whatever room she was in, threatening to drag her out of hogwarts? yeah probably.

 

she was about to go back into the deep dive of her restless thoughts until she felt.. hands. hands gripping hers. soft, silk-like fingers delving into the empty spaces of her own and firmly interlocking them together, soothingly caressing the skin of her palms.

 

hermione felt her words die in her throat as her eyes made their way back to the blonde, who was very close to her, _(she didn’t see her get up- or move at all, how did she do that?)_ and smelling of something so rosy and vanilla, something so very distracting that she almost didn’t realise the wand in her hand was being plucked and thrown to the side.

 

“luna?” oh how hermione was adorable when confused, she thought to herself. but now was not the time for gushing, no time for that- she had to try and get rid of the red and yellow spurts that flew in waves from the girl, colours that were very dangerous when put together, and oh were they so bright they almost blinded her. it wasn’t good.

 

normally her girl was giving her greens and pinks, sometimes maroon when she was in a studious mood- those luna enjoyed the most because she could sit there and watch and bathe in the gorgeous vibe of the colours, but never both red and yellow. that was new and luna didn’t really like it all that much.

 

“when was the last time you ate?” she asked plainly, no hint of amusement anymore but only a bit of worry- she realised didn’t sound stern at all, but lenient and soft. it seemed whenever she tried to pretend to be anything but enamoured by her, she failed humorously, which was no surprise because she didn’t like deceiving anyone with false moods.

 

“oh, is that what you got from all that? _goodness_ luna, harry is in danger how can i think about scarfing food down my throat when he is probably helpless and alone somewhere in the time dimen-“ she was going to go off again, wasn’t she? luna tried to hold in a sigh. this was a serious situation where hermione wasn’t taking care of herself and normally luna wouldn’t have to go to great lengths to get her to listen, but it seems like this will be one of those times.

 

now, luna was not completely immune to her nerves either so she understood why hermione reacted the way she did, but it simply was not healthy. she would make sure that they came to a perfect conclusion and a solution for the problems that threatened to combust hermione’s beautiful and well-constructed train of thought, so that she would not be weighed down to the point of exhaustion - right after this girl is fed with the finest food hogwarts has to offer.

 

but as of now, she needed to unwind- and luna knew exactly what to do.

 

“i believe,” the blonde began, nearing, if possible, even closer to hermione with her eyes light and playful and completely pausing the girls _incessant_ talking (luna _adored_ her and everything about her but this was painful), “that you spend _entirely_ too much time thinking,” brown eyes stopped to try and understand what she was doing, before they darted down to faint pink coloured plump lips. then back to silvery grey eyes with unhid tension.

 

hermione, noticing the change in her whole demeanour, wondered what her girlfriend was doing. she couldn’t even think straight anymore, she was unfocused now, which she suspected was luna’s goal in the first place; which she was successful in doing, and her palms were starting to sweat. was she really about to pause everything, her search for answers for harry’s whereabouts, to let luna play with her? and what on _earth_ was luna thinking? did she not just hear everything she had said about harry being in dange-

 

all she could suddenly think about was how her brain was supposed to be saying no, as luna advanced towards her gracefully, but it seems like both her heart and her brain were betraying her these days.

 

licking her suddenly dry lips, hermione saw the girl’s stern, gentle expression melt into something completely wicked. her hair was like a halo- or was that just the light coming through from the window and illuminating her entirely to the point where she looked like something of a tempting creature from a fairytale? it made luna possibly even more alluring than usual.

 

hermione was breathing a little faster, her pupils dilating a little bigger, feet suddenly feeling wobbly in the now warm room- it couldn’t have gotten this hot this fast could it? they didn’t put any charms-

 

they were still, so still, until-

 

-the way luna brought her closer to her with a beckoning finger was a positively sinful sight, and she almost felt her legs betray her to the point where she’d fall into a heap. what was she thinking about before? what was the reason she’d come in here again? she was trying to regain her focus when,

 

“don’t you think?” eyebrows rose, dreamy silvery pupils looked directly at her, as she asked her question with a daring tone. she expected hermione to follow through in this scene, have her eyes shy away or at least attempt to move away.

 

but she did none of that.

 

with one, painfully, last glance at her lips- hermione moved forward, mumbling a soft “ _yes_ ,” before connecting their mouths and slipping her hands out of luna’s grasp to tug at her clothing, bringing her even closer to the point where their bodies meshed together- she could feel her, every part of her. it was intoxicating.

 

she didn’t really care about anything else, all she could think about was getting those fingers underneath her knickers- that mouth on hers, losing itself in her taste, that bothersome shirt clinging to her _off_ her body, the nape of her neck that glowed, _begging_ to be kissed, cherished and bitten.

 

the blonde herself seemed to be in a daze, even though she had been the one to begin this, not paying attention to the desk they’d bumped into, only on the fingers that crawled down her neck, shoulder, chest, hip-

 

the curve of hermione’s breasts pressed against luna’s own and it was delightful. all she could think, breathe, smell, see- was _soft soft soft soft_ skin. it made her mewl, the way her fingers pressed against her hip, the way her lips slid over her neck, the way she was overflowing with this strong scent that made her so _hazy_.

 

she drunk her in, this moment of hermione being dominated then completely without even knowing it herself, taking control of which direction they went. it made her feel very, _very_ nice.

 

luna, essentially, sighed in sweet relief as she felt the colours divide and mix into something of a more white, pinkish tint. she had effectively gotten the brunette’s attention, stopped her from worrying herself ragged, got her to think about anything other than harry and the impossible situation he was currently in- that she would obviously help her girlfriend with, right after she took care of her needs first.

 

the warmth that flooded between them as they kissed again, as her hands delved underneath the skin of the brunette, was oh so lovely and luna almost - _almost_ \- forgot about what she was meant to be doing before she finally held herself and pulled away ( _hermione letting out a incoherent whine at this, beautifully flushed in the cheeks)_ whilst still staying close.

 

and when her girlfriend tried to kiss her once more, luna made sure to cup her chin and gently tilt her face towards her, but not close enough for her to begin anything again. she also looked a sight, hungry and cherry red in the face. she protested when they paused, her fingers making their way through luna’s robes and underneath her shirt, completely rebelling against her.

 

 _“when was the last time you ate”_ my _arse_.

 

just as she was going to lift the offending garment, the one that she considered ripping instead, she was halted again by deftly smooth fingers that gripped her own and guided them out from under her clothing.

 

“please tell me you are not about to ask what i think you’re about to ask, because if you do-“ hermione swallowed, eyes drinking in the sight of luna’s lips which were now covered in her lipstick, her eyes that looked as if they had just been pulled out of a great erotic dream, that were now blinking at her, speechless. “i’ll be kissing _you_ to shut you up.”

 

luna let herself giggle, still holding onto the brunette’s long slender fingers, swaying them even as she pulled back. she really loved this side of hermione, the one that was demanding and heated during a snog- luna could get used to this side of her.

 

“as much as i’d love that..” she replied dreamily, only glancing down once - just _once_ at her lips, before a luna-like smile took over her face, “i’d like hermione to come dine with me even more.”

 

hermione was almost appalled at the fact that she’d been kissed to the point of oblivion- just so she would stop talking about timey-whimey nonsense and join the girl for dinner. she really needed to stop being surprised because.. it was so _luna_.

 

of course, of course she would do such a thing. the sight of hermione accompanied with plates of food all around her was much more compelling for luna rather than having her way with her in the ravenclaw dormitory. it was cruel how she messed with her like this, but hermione wasn’t all that mad- she would still get a taste afterwards.

 

even though she’d feel guilty for not spending the next half of the day looking for answers for her best friend’s disappearance, she supposed it was okay if it was because of her stomach. maybe after some food she could finally get the energy to brainstorm again. with luna. _definitely_ with luna.

 

and harry? well, he could wait for an hour or two - she _was_ rather hungry.

 

(oh how hungry she was..)

 

sighing in faux-regret as her lust-filled thoughts escaped her, she nodded slowly, feeling her heart blossom at the way luna brightly smiles in return. she was going to go in for another kiss, just _one_ , but of course luna was having none of it because she knew what her girlfriend was like and instead decided to drag her out of the room and into the hallways where the smell of food drifted into her nostrils and wakened her belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is nonsense. literal nonsense. but hermione can't figure everything out in a few days now can she? 
> 
> some people might find it weird to see hermione so loose wild and starstruck when shes with luna (shes not that loose and free when she first meets her, but i like to imagine she would be if they became very close) and instead prefer the version of her that is logical and strict and concentrative.. imagine how many massages book-hermione would have needed- all that stress!

**Author's Note:**

> saw somewhere in my notes that i sometimes go turkey and feel the need to add representation whilst writing, so i'll probably provide with: poc, lgbt+, islam etc. related things during this story since i see way less of it in this fandom, i hope it doesn't bother anyone too much.
> 
> i'm very, very, very fond of our luna + hermione pairing, so you bet you're gonna be seeing them making an appearance. there will be times where i mark the story so you'll know when its switched to the CURRENT timeline (where they are the main focus, which you can skip past it if you'd like) and the PAST timeline (where harry currently is.) as i said above, regulus will also be shown. i have not yet thought through whether harry and regulus will be romantically involved, i probably will not go through with it, but you never know - opportunities, opportunities. 
> 
> in this fic harry will be 16, i know that sirius dies when hes a bit older but i've decided to mess with that a little.
> 
> little p.s; i don't really know the exact months and days - don't think anyone else knows this either - of when james n lily went into hiding, when the boys were suspicious of remus, when they decided secret keepers, when they announced they were pregnant.. etc, just that in 1979 peter started betraying them to voldemort, you know, the simple stuff - so i'll try and fit it together as i go along i suppose. hopefully it doesn't all go to shit, as things usually do when im in charge.


End file.
